


Paint Your Pleasure

by lovethybooty



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: District 4, F/M, Happy, Panem, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Prompt Fic, paint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7104673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethybooty/pseuds/lovethybooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm an artist; I'm allowed to be covered in paint."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Your Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Saw promptsforthesoul.tumblr.com's Writing Prompt 43 aka "I’m an artist; I’m allowed to be covered in paint," and this was born.
> 
> Oh, in other news, I broke my ankle at cheer. So that's not fun. But oh well :D
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoy, maybe?
> 
> Happy Reading!

Annie sighed and wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. She bent over, picking up the paint roller she accidentally dropped onto the wooden deck.

Mags had enlisted her and Finnick to help finish her old deck, giving it a new color to match the siding of her ocean-front Victor's home. By 9:30, Finnick had already gotten bored and went back inside to "make seaweed bread and show his support," leaving Annie to finish the job by herself.

Wasting no time in getting back to work, she turned around. Annie stepped back to get a better look at the railing she'd been painting all morning- a miscalculated step that sent her flying into the can behind her. She fell back onto the platform with a thud, the paint canister dumping the entirety of its baby blue contents onto her clothes and landing next to her with a clang.

Annie sat up and inspected her stringy, blue hair with a frown. " _Shit_ ," she breathed, looking around to see the deck covered in uneven splotches and speckles of paint.

Finnick emerged from the patio door to investigate moments later, only to find a damp and sticky and paint-covered Annie on her ass. At first, he had assumed the worst and figured she'd tumbled off the deck- a steep fall into a bed of jagged rocks. But upon seeing her, his worry washed away and was replaced with relief. And laughter- the joyous kind that sends you doubling over, clutching your stomach- the best kind.

"Piss off, Odair," Annie interrupted, pushing herself to a stand. She dusted off her blue legs the best she could, gooey paint dripping from her hands as she shook them. "This isn't funny."

"I dunno know, Ann- it looks pretty funny to me," Finnick smirked.

"Will it still look funny when it's all over you too?" Annie questioned, flinging some of the excess paint from her hands onto his plaid button down.

Finnick sighed in defeat and put his hands up in resignation, calling a truce. "Fair enough. So, what'd you do anyway? Get in a fight with the paint can?"

At this, Annie cracked a small smile, straightening out the smock Mags had insisted she wear, "I’m an _artist_ ; I’m _allowed_ to be covered in paint."


End file.
